


Heavenly Darkness

by FeelTheThunder



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bruce Angst, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Feels, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Bruce Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Feels, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, F/M, Fear of Flying, Feathers & Featherplay, Headcanon Accepted, Heaven, Heaven vs Hell, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Avengers, Protective Bruce, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Thor, Steve Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4286382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelTheThunder/pseuds/FeelTheThunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the Bible is wrong? What if people really do have Guardian Angels? What if God really does exist, but he's not what we think? What if the Celestial were compromised? What happens to the mortal beings, suddenly alone and fragile in the Universe with suddenly no protection or guidance? NOT AS DARK AS IT SOUNDS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is also up on my FanFiction account! Had this idea for a while now and only just starting to write it. Updates soon.

1930\. The sky flickered with lightning, illuminating the Earth for an instant. The storm had ripped through Brooklyn, tearing at anything it could. Houses were toppled, bins and cars airbourne. The streets were empty, yet littered with various items and debris. The city was filled with the ripping and banging of debris, colliding into houses and crashing from the sky as the wind flicked it around. In the distance, thunder clapped and roared, followed by a crack of light that whipped across the black sky. Civilians were huddled in their houses, candles lit and blankets thrown around their quivering bodies as they waited for the storm to pass. It had been the worst one for many years, and most people were starting to panic and worry about the damage on their houses and streets, hardly anyone able to afford to completely fix their properties. Salaries hardly paid enough to feed the family without the strain of weather-damaged goods. Most people would sadly have to make do without, or until they could save up enough to replace what the storm stole.

In one house, a small boy at the age of 10, stared out the window, fascinated by the howling wind and blinding lighting. He stared in awe as a streetlight was torn from its socket, launching into the sky with another powerful gust.

“Steven, get away from the window!” A stern voice demanded from behind the delighted child. His mother sat on the worn couch, huddled in a blanket and watching her son with concerned eyes as he pressed against the window.

“I’m ok, Ma. The storm looks like its going to stop soon.” Steven, called Steve by most others, turned round with a reassuring smile.

“What does it matter? The damage is done! How will we all fix everything? My wage will most certainly not cover even a small piece of the cost, that’s for sure! Not if we choose to keep clothes on our backs and food in our stomachs. Do you think the Barnes family are ok? Oh, if only we had a telephone!”

“Yeah, Bucky will make sure they are. We’ll be alright, Ma. We’re safe, that’s all that matters, right?” Steve jumped onto the couch beside his mother. The quivering woman smiled and wrapped the boy in her arms, covering him with the warming blanket, all fear replaced with affection and contentment

“Of course, my darling. Now come on, we don’t want you catching your death.” She placed a soft kiss in his blonde hair, chuckling as he squirmed slightly, wrapping the blankets around him tightly.

They fell asleep like that, Steve curled in his mother’s lap and ladled with blankets for warmth. Steve woke with a start with a loud bang of thunder, around 2 hours after drifting off. His mother slumbered on, not hearing the particularly loud crash. The small boy frowned around the now dark room, the candle having burnt out. His tired eyes scanning the room until they fell on the window, the flickering sky looming over him. Steve shuffled out his mother’s grasp and carefully walked to the window, eyes trained on the sky. As he propped himself onto the windowsill, he gasped slightly as he turned his attention to the street. A man was standing not too far from him, facing his direction but hunched over, like in pain. He couldn’t see his face as he was bent over, his muscular body draped in tattered cloth. 

Steve jumped down and ran to the door, flinging it open despite the gales and stepped out, closing it behind him and gripping the railing for support. He shivered and let out a few weak coughs as he looked around for the figure. He spotted him, his heart faltering when he did. He was standing upright now, looking directly at the terrified child. His hands were held in tight fists at his side as he stared at the child, his features still shadowed from sight.

“Who are you?” Steve called, trying to look braver than he felt. 

The man never answered, instead turned her gaze to the sky. Steve followed his gaze and blinked as the sky was now supporting a blood red hue, the clouds looking like ragged scars across the offending colour. Steve fearfully turned his wide eyed stare back to the figure, who was approaching him. He stood, frozen to the spot as the man neared, a flicker of lightning revealing his smirking lips and cruel eyes. Steve never noticed, as he stared at the two huge shadows that loomed over the man, producing from his back and towering high above them.

“I am someone to be feared. Never forget, young child. Your world belongs to me.” The voice coated with vemon was silky smooth and yet rasped on Steve’s hearing like nails on a chalkboard. The two shadows rose higher, and with the next flicker of lightning, they struck down towards the Earth, the man disappeared into the red sky.

"I am the Angel of Darkness."


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heres the first Chapter! It reveals quite a bit of whats to come and be expected... Hope you like it and next chapter will be up soon.

The Indian hospital corridors bustled with nurses and doctors, running around their daily errands. The three story building stood at the edge of the city, the biggest one in Delhi. Although the capital of the country held beautiful and wondrous sights, the glamour disappeared towards the edge of the city, the civilian properties and utilities’ wellbeing didn’t sit high on the Government’s priority list, and were in a constant state of neglect and despair. The ‘Grand’ hospital stood in an overcrowded village in the outskirts, broken off from the rest of the city. The crusting red brick walls looked ancient and ready to topple as they stood in the quiet end of the village, only a handful of surrounding shacks and shops scattered close by. The collapsing roof toned in with the dull and bland surroundings, sections long missing or damaged by the weather beyond repair. The interiors weren’t in any better condition; faded grey walls that were just as damaged as they were outside, dirty wooden floors that gave off splinters to anyone not wearing shoes or socks, the rattling, shaky beds threatening to collapse when patients turned or moved. The rooms were overcrowded with patients, some of the adults who shared the same illness designated the same bed.  
Staff on the premise never slept, always darting around the emergencies and urgencies of the public. Each of the wards held a mixture of male and female nurses with the occasional trained doctors, however today was different. Many of the staff had been knocked down and infected with an outbreak of a Flu virus which quickly became widespread throughout Delhi alike, leaving the hospital at an extremely low level of staff, around two nurses to each ward. Substitutes chipped in and worked to keep the medical care at its highest, but without the experience and proper training, they offered little to no relief to the various needs of the patients. The staff may have been off, however the admitted patients with the deadly Flu needed immediate and urgent attention, which left the uninfected doctors and nurse chasing their tails.  
The most vulnerable to the virus were the children’s section, which occupied the largest ward in the building. In preparation and protection, the ward had been closed off to the public, even the parents unless they had been given a thorough medical examination before entering. The different rooms were coloured brightly and covered in various character paintings, attempting to hide the morbid true of the children admitted into the building. The different rooms usually separated the reasons the children had been admitted for, but now the smaller rooms contained children who had managed to avoid the Flu, the main four rooms crowded with Flu-ridden children, many of them siblings or related. If one child caught the virus in a household, any young or elderly residents were almost guaranteed to contract it within as little as a few hours.  
The nurses buzzed around each child, handing out the plates of the patient’s dinner. Their smiles were wide and skilfully put on as they danced around each other, avoiding contact from the infected. It was just hitting 5pm, and some of the younger children were beginning to feel drowsy and grumpy. The nurses quickly glossed over these children, dumping the plates and dashing away before they could complain or react.  
Walking casually through the chaos, a man sauntered up the corridor, eyes trained to a folder which he breezed over. His shoulders were held stiffly back. He absentmindedly licked his lips as he read over the pages, drawing to a halt as he reached the main administration desk. Running a tanned hand through his curly black hair, he let out a puff of air as he shifted his eyes to the stacks of paper near labelled with his name. He had been one of the first to volunteer to step in, signing up only days after the Flu virus spread to staff members. Having all the required medical degrees, PhDs’, and years’ worth of volunteering and working in the medical and scientific profession, within days of applying, he had received confirmation and an offer for a more permanent place within specific departments of his choice, which he had immediately accepted. After having a debate and conference with the administrations of each department, he had finally decided to take on the Children’s ward.  
“Good Evening, Dr. Banner. What brings you up here?” a small boy looked up for the folder he had been slouched over. An American university student who was undertaking medical placement and had chosen to travel to Delhi, claiming to want to help with the Flu crisis and gain his requirements in a joint effort. Staff were convinced he had chosen their country for the flashing lights and dazzling landscapes in the richer areas, but were so relieved to have an extra pair of hands, they welcomed him quickly. His oversized shirt and red coded name badge clearly pronounced he was a recent addition to the ward staff and not an official doctor, but he had made a point of covering the clearly offending indicator, claiming he was the same as ever other staff member and had the same aims and goals; healing the children. He widely grinned up, his glasses slipping down his face.

“Michael, I’ve told you to call me Bruce. Just finishing my rounds before I leave.” The man looked from the folder for a few seconds with a fond smile.

“Sorry, the children call you that so it’s catchy. I thought you were booked onto Ward 2 for the next week?”  
“Dr. Martine is back, so I’m back on my own schedule.”  
“Oh good! I’ll need to remember to go see her! I’m glad you’re back, Dr. Bastle was driving us all crazy! He would take his time with the children, like it’s a leisurely stroll through the park, he doesn’t seem to get the idea that we’re trying to get the children home as quickly as possible! I get that he’s new but still! Anyway, enjoy the rest of your shift, Dr. Ban-eh Bruce.”  
“Yeah, I can see that.” The doctor nodded at the stack in front of him with a small sigh. “You too, kid.” He retaliated, shifting the pile of work to the back of his desk. He would deal with that in the morning.  
“Oh Bruce, are you coming to the night out tonight? You deserve a break, and it’ll be fun!” Michael jumped up suddenly with an excited grin. Bruce twisted and walked backwards, rolling his eyes at the excited teenager and nodding with a slight chuckle. In honesty, he had forgotten about the night out. Some of the staff had decided to have a celebratory night in the local pub, wanting to recognise and celebrate the drop in patient admissions in the last week. It had only dropped by a handful of people, but it was a start.  
“See you there, kid.”  
“Will do, Dr. Ba-Bruce.” Bruce laughed slightly, shaking his head as he entered one of the larger rooms. He looked round the Flu room, nodding a silent greeting to the nurse who was struggling to administer medication to a young boy, and approached one of the beds. A small girl with wide eyes and quivering body, looked up as he neared. She was curled in a tight ball, her pink nightdress reaching down to her ankles and coughing slightly. Bruce gave a small, yet genuine smile as he sat down on the edge of her bed, his grey-white coat fanning out. Her dark eyes watched his, wide and worried.  
“Hi there, I’m Doctor Banner. Whats’ your name?” Bruce smiled and rested his arms on his knees, slouching himself down slightly. He smiled at the small American girl. Her file claimed she had had travelled to visit family when she was struck down with the deadly virus. He smiled to himself slightly as she minutely relaxed her tense body and death grip on the sheets draped over her.  
“Olivia. You sound like me, are you from America too?” She whispered with a quiver to her voice, deep blue eyes darting over him. “A-am I in trouble?”  
“I am actually, but I’ve lived here for a few years now. Of course not, petal. From what I’ve heard, you’re a very good girl. You might even be the best behaved on the whole ward, but don’t tell the other kids I said that.” He winked and whispered the last part to her, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. The girl giggled slightly and puffed her chest out. She averted her eyes for a few seconds as Bruce smiled before he slowly opened her file, giving it a quick skim to recap his memory. “You’re nightdress is quite long on you, is that Mummy’s?”  
“Mhm, I don’t have any, so Mummy’s let me use hers.” She smiled slightly as she played with the hem of the skirt. Bruce smiled as he quickly looked back at the folder. He was about to speak again, trying to keep the girl talking, when he felt a small hand tap his shoulder.  
“Dr. Banner?” Olivia sat up onto her heels and blinked her wide eyes at him. He looked up with a soft expression, raising his chin slightly to propel her question.  
“When can I go home to Mummy and Daddy?” she frowned slightly, scooting closer in nervous anticipation. “I have lots of friends here but I miss waking up to Mummy’s ‘Good Morning Kisses’ and my cousin promised to show me her school and where she plays. Its not as nice as home and not everyone has lots of money, but everyone’s really nice here.” She added in a matter-of-fact tone, her shoulder rising in a shrug. Bruce chuckled slightly, taking her hand and giving it a small squeeze.  
“That’s what I’m here to talk to you about. Usually, I would speak to a Mummy or Daddy about things like this, but you’re a big enough girl, aren’t you?” Bruce raised an eyebrow, shifting forwards in his seat slightly.  
“Yeah! I’m six, Daddy always says I’m growing up fast.” She bounced slightly, hands slapping down on his knees.  
“I’ll bet. Well then, I’ve looked over the things that Dr. Bastle wrote down and it all looks very healthy, almost perfect. When Mummy or Daddy come up tomorrow, I’ll be able to tell them that you can go home once I make sure you have your medicine.” Olivia beamed up. She threw her arms around him with a delighted squeal.  
“Thank you! Thank you, thank you!” She giggled as she bounced around. Bruce watched and chuckled, gently catching her hands to shush her.  
“You need to try and remember not to do too much jumping, alright? You’re lungs are still a little swollen and they won’t be perfect for another few weeks. I don’t want to have to meet you in here again.” He grinned as she ducked her head slightly with a smile. “Now come on, let’s get you warm again.” He stood up and gently pushed her back into the bed.  
Bruce wrapped the blanket around her and gave her shoulder a small squeeze before picking the folder up again. He glanced at the last name on the list and sighed slightly. He arched his back slightly, feeling the tight hold of his under-bandage gripping him uncomfortably. He barely supressed a groan, he would have to sort that out later on. He shook his head and half trudged out and towards the furthest back room. It wasn’t like he was tired, he felt wearier than anything. Bruce stopped at the closed door and gently rapped his knuckles on the door. After a few seconds of nothing, he cracked the door open and peered in. A boy lay curled on to bed, sleeping soundly. His messy black hair was sticking up at odd angles, his fringe flickering slightly as he snored. Bruce smiled and crouched at the end of his bed, pulling the file out the holder. Although the hospital was sorely needing space, this child was just too ill to be in anyone’s company. He leaned the large folder on his knee as he pulled a piece of paper out. He frowned as he thought, before scribbling down a brief instructive note. This kid won’t be getting out anytime soon, and Bruce was glad he wasn’t having to tell him that now. Handling another sad face would probably make him tear his hair out.  
Shaking his head, he placed the folder back as silently as he could before sneaking out. Now with all his compulsory work for the day finished, Bruce dropped all his paperwork back at the main desk. He turned automatically towards the last room, his steps lighter than his previous exhausted ones. With a nod to one of the nurses who gave him a knowing smile as he neared the last stop, he entered the room quietly and shut the door behind him. The four bedded room held all boys, the youngest group on the ward. Unlike the rest of the rooms which were overcrowded, the four children held in this room were under immediate danger of infection from other patients, and as a result were isolated together to help prevent the worst case. Only certain staff members were permitted into this room, Bruce being one.  
Two of the boys were already asleep, the other colouring in on his table, concentration clear on his face. He didn’t hear Bruce enter, but a pair of eyes fixed onto him the minute he walked in. Bruce’s eyes glossed over the three unaware boys before locking gazes with the fourth. He felt his face break into a smile as he walked through the room.  
“Hello Dr. Bruce!” the small three year old waved, a smile lighting his face. He was curled in a plain t-shirt which hung off his tiny frame. His bright eyes smiled as Bruce approached his bed and perched on the edge, retaliating the greeting. The young boy, Aiden, seemed to quiver with excitement, his frail body shaking as he grinned and began babbling to Bruce with clumsy words, arms gesturing around the room as he spoke. Before the outbreak, children admitted where given scrap paper and some pencils and allowed to either write their name or draw a picture and their names written by a nurse. Aiden had drawn a picture of a dog, his name misspelled underneath as ‘Aden’. It hung proudly on the wall beside his bed.

“Calm down, Aiden.” Bruce laughed, reaching out to the child and taking a light grasp of his arm. Slowly, and reluctantly, the small boy looked up and crossed his legs as Bruce smirked. Ever since he joined the hospital, he had taken an immediate liking to the toddler, finding himself looking forward to his visits and eventually enjoying them more than the occasional lunch break he told. Bruce dropped his folder onto the uneven table under the window and propped a leg over the other as he began to chat to the boy, exchanging conversation about each other’s day. Aiden, told Bruce about the other boys in his room and the games and stories they share to pass the time. In return, Bruce told the child about his travels around the country, telling him about American food and Russian weather. As he spoke, Aiden crawled onto his lap and cuddled into his chest, wide, awed eyes fixed to his. They flirted easily between English and Hindu as they accounted for the day’s activities.

Aiden had been admitted not long before Bruce had joined, found abandoned and on the edge of death. He was Flu-free, but has been rushed in with severe symptoms of Tuberculosis and Pneumonia. With the limited supplies and medication, Aiden recovered enough to come out of being critical, but was still weak and in need of the vaccination, something the hospital couldn’t afford. Bruce, determined to help the small boy and feeling empathetic pity to his situation, had befriended him quickly and searched the local authorities and surrounding medical clinics and hospitals for the medicine, but always returned empty handed. The supplies and medications were always given to the richer areas in the city before they reached the poor sections, like leftovers.

“Dr. Bruce?” Aiden patted his shoulder for his attention which had wandered as he finished his story of his last visit in America. Bruce looked down, arm lifting and curling around the small boy affectionately. “Are you ok? Can you tell me a story?” Aiden frowned which broke into a small innocent smile. Bruce had taken to teaching the eager child his own language while Aiden helped him in areas he wasn’t strong in.

“Yes, and of course. What one?” The doctor laughed with a shake of his head. His question earned him silence, and a frowning face as the answer was carefully considered.

“Oh! The Angles!” the unexperienced child grinned, his eyes wide and showing no signs of fatigue. Bruce felt himself smile.

“The Angels?” a sharp nod made him chuckle. “In English?” Another nod. “That is a long story. Lots of big words.”

“I manage. I tell you if I don’t know!” Bruce smiled proudly. Aiden had picked the language up quickly, learning phrases and words and holding basic conversations with ease. 

“I don’t think we should use English for that story. Will we tell Palak?” Bruce looked to the neighbouring bed with the colouring child, who hadn’t flinch during their conversations. Aiden shook his head, his grip tightening on Bruce’s coat slightly. While Bruce tried to keep his attention as equally divided as he could in the room, Aiden never wanted to ask the other boys over to join their stories. He told Bruce he didn’t want to disturb them, but both really knew that he preferred spending his time with Bruce alone, enjoying the man’s stories and affection. With a small chuckle and holding the tiny boy tightly to his chest, Bruce shifted up the bed and relaxed against the wall, settling them both down before he starting talking, slow and soft Hindu drifting through the room.

“Angels live in another world, miles from here and closer to the Sun. Its called Celealheim, but we call it Heaven and its where all Celestial beings, or as we know them, Angels, are born and raised. The Angels are a species who look similar to you and me, except they are quite different. Their eyes are golden in colour, and some people say it would blind a human being if they looked into their eyes. The most obvious thing about Angels are their wings. They’re so big, they trail behind them on the ground when they walk, and tower over their heads. When they’re extended out, they span much wider than arms width, double that. They’re strong, and can carry an Angel for miles on end without faltering.” Aiden leaned his head against Bruce’s shoulder as he spoke, gesturing occasionally in the dim light.

“And they’re white, aren’t they?” Aiden grinned knowingly. Bruce had told him this story countless times, but he never tired of hearing it.

“They are, so white they’re almost blinding. Some Angels have six wings, a pair to fly, another to conceal their face, and the other are always held straight out from their backs, pressed against each other in an eternal prayer. These Angels are called Seraphim, and some say that they are the ones who guard The Almighty God from harm. They protect and watch over the Garden of Eden, and never speak. Some say they can’t, others that they’re forbidden to.”

“I think they’re the scariest Angel. They don’t stay on land for long, do they?”

“They prefer to float and fly, you’re right. They’re the closest to the Almighty and carry out any of his commands, whether for the rest of the Angels, or for humanity, us. I think the scariest Angel is the Archangels.” Bruce smiled slightly, glancing out the window to the darkening sky, the inky blue beginning to shimmer as stars blinked and twinkled. Aiden nodded and cuddled in deeper.

“Archangels are the rank below the Seraphim, who are the highest and closest to the Almighty. Archangels are the warriors of Heaven. They protect both worlds, Heaven and Earth. You can tell the apart from The Cherubium, the rank below the Archangels, by their Runes. They all have symbols and marks on their bodies, gifting and binding them to various abilities and strengths. People think that they hold the same status as a God from other worlds like Asgard. Thor, the God of Thunder, or Lady Sif, Goddess of War, Archangels have their own Gods technically.”

“Yeah! Gods from Asgard control things like beauty and War, but Angels control things that happen on Earth, like the elements!”

“That’s right. Celestialheim is bonded to Earth as its Protector and Superior, so the Archangels use their powers to keep Earth and us surviving.”

“So…why do Asgard people still have things like thunder? That’s an Earth thing, right?”

“It is, but thunder happens everywhere, just like the sun shines over all the worlds. The powers that Angels have can affect other worlds, but they focus on Earth which is why we think it only occurs on Earth.” Aiden, seemingly happy with this logic, smiled and nodded.

“Archangels also have an assembly of the strongest called the Arke. The Seven Archangels that were involved in this were the highest of the Archangels, the bravest and wisest. They’re the main defence of Heaven, leading the rest into battle and showing no mercy for anything, and each had their own set of talents and blessings. People think that because the Arke was so strong and mighty, they were honoured through Earthly tributes; Seven wonders of the World, Seven continents, Seven Seas, you name it. Can you remember the Arke’s names?” Bruce smiled down at the child, who was beginning to look tired. He nodded eagerly at his question however.

“Yeah! Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Sariel, Raguel, and umm…” Aiden trailed off, frowning as he desperately tried to remember the last name. Bruce smiled and gently brushed his hair back.

“Zadakiel. His names always hard to remember, you did very well though.”

“I hope he doesn’t mind I always forget his name, its just so weird.” Aiden made a face which Bruce laughed at. “Are they all men?”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you. They are, the strongest ones who are chosen carefully by the existing members, and only join if they are worthy enough of the tasks and responsibilities, which God deems himself. Each of the Seven are said to represent the Seven days of the week, and are stronger and mightier on their given day. Anyway, each of the Seven Archangels are different from average Archs in many ways, mainly their strength and bravery, and because of this they get called Greater Archangels, and technically rank higher than an Archangel as they are trained and raised to a higher standard than the average Arch.” Aiden twitched slightly and threw his head up to look at Bruce.

“Tell the story of the Beginning!”

“The Beginning? The Creation Story? Thats a dark time. It happened during and after our creation, and some say it caused all the wars and suffering on Earth. Some people don’t believe in it while others do. There’s very little proof to prove to us that it actually happened the way we tell the story.  
There’s an evil among the worlds, one that despise Celealheim, and they’re called demons. They’re sole aim is to plunge the worlds into darkness. The main purpose of them is to wipe out Angels and remove the Light they provide. They come from a word called Svartelaheim, far from here too, but in the opposite direction. Earth is between the two rival worlds, and some say that God created Earth and placed it in between to stop the wars that waged between the species. The Angels wanted to bring Peace and Light to all the Realms, while the Demons wanted to return everything into darkness, the way it used to be. Svartelaheim was created before Celestialheim, and when the Celestial beings came into existence and began to preach and spread their light, the demons turned to hating and vowed that they would vanquish them and restore the balance in the universe. The other worlds, however, were pleased and welcomed Celestialheim readily. Demons attacked the Angels, determined to rid the universe of them. Other worlds, such as Asgard, stepped in, making the Demons turn on them too.” Aiden shifted slightly, eyes still training on Bruce in awe.

“The Archangels, in response to Earth’s formation, forced a treaty with the Svart, which meant that neither world would attack the other. While they hated the Demons just as much as they were hated back, they had no desire to harm or include a newly born race into a war that they didn’t belong in. It worked, the Demons retreated and the Angels were free to focus on the Earth, forming and moulding humans into what we are now, while the Greater Archs kept the defence systems up and warding potential Demon threats away from both Earth and Heaven. They didn’t interact much with the human world, but when they did, it was to protect humans of a threat incoming. However, the Demons were not happy, and they swore they would eventually gain universal darkness over every Realm and world, just as they want and believe it should be. You see, they don’t worship a leader or God, or they never used to. They have Greater Demons which are similar to ArchAngels, but no leader or God. Their God was darkness. Demons were chaotic and disorderly, attacking when they see fit. Although they weren’t coordinating with each other, their attack can be deadly to an Angel, so still posed a threat. They gained a leader not long after Earth was created, and his name is Lucifer. Lucifer was an Archangel, and a Greater one. He was a member of the Arke and was a fine young warrior. His heart was darkened by the work of the Demons, and the Creation of us, and began to gradually side towards them. He opposed the idea of Earth’s creation and was outraged when The Almighty created us. His heart darkened further in his hatred and rage towards humans, and he was deeply jealous of The Almighty’s love for us, as well as the Arke’s attention and affection. He rioted, and lost his place among the Arkes, falling from Grace. He became a Fallen Angel, ‘The Angel of Darkness’, and banished from Heaven.” Aiden was slouching into Bruce by this point, his eyes exhausted but he continued to stare and gape in wonder.

“As expected, Lucifer approached the Svart and proposed a deal with them, bargaining our existence for his status. If the Demons allowed him to become their ruler and allow him to take what he believed to be his rightful place as King, he would help them wipe Earth out and invade through Celealheim. They accepted, and tried many times, but the whole Rank of Archangels’ focus was on Earth, and it was nearly impossible. As a reassurance for humanity, The Almighty created a new rank to live on Earth called the Sungazers, half human half Angel. With the strength and soul of an Angel, but the appearance and nature of humans, Sungazers kept the peace easily. That’s until Lucifer managed to bypass their defences. He posed as a Sungazer, his wings wrapped tightly under his clothes and he entered into Heaven undetected, unleashing hordes of Demons on Earth and Heaven alike. It was a bloody and long war, Angels divided between their homeland and Earth. The Demons were finally defeated, and Lucifer imprisoned in Valhalla, Hell, where people believe he still is today. The casualties were high from the Darklight War, and the Sungazers completely vanished. Some people believe they were wiped out while others think they returned to Celealheim, abandoning us along with the Arke who never returned.”

“What do you think happened to the Arke and Sungazers?” Aiden blinked heavily. 

“I like to think they’re still out there with us. I don’t think they would ever give up on us, ever.” Bruce smiled reassuringly. 

“I don’t. I think they left us alone and don’t think they’ll come back.” His voice was laced with sadness and longing. Bruce frowned slightly.

“You think they don’t care about us anymore?”

“No no, they do. I just think that they left Earth because they lost a lot of people in the War like we did. Maybe-maybe they were worried if they stayed it would bring us all more danger.” Aiden shrugged and looked out the window for a second before leaning back against Bruce. They plunged into a comfortable silence, Bruce occasionally glancing to the dimly lit corridor as the few remaining nurses bustled by with the final security checks.

“Dr. Bruce?” the small question tugged him from his distraction once again as he looked down at the tired child. “What day do the Archangels have?”

“The order of names you said. Michael is Sunday and Zadakiel is Friday.”

“So…who is Wednesday?” Aiden looked up slowly. Bruce smiled. Although he had began teaching the boy the basics of maths, he hadn’t quite grasped it just yet.

“Uriel. Why do you ask that?” he raised an eyebrow with a small cock of his head.

“He’s my Angel! He must watch over me because I was saved on a Wednesday! I know its meant to be when you were born, but I’m not so sure what day… so it’s a Wednesday now! Plus, I met you on a Wednesday, didn’t I?” Bruce smiled slightly. They had indeed, Bruce’s first official shift in the children’s ward being the middle of the week, and the first time he met the majority of the ward’s inhabitants.

“He is. Uriel watches over you, definitely.” Aiden smiled and closed his eyes again with a yawn.

“I like him, I’d like to meet him one day.” The tired mumble hardly escaped his lips before the child was drifting off, falling limp in Bruce’s hold. Gently so not to jostle him, Bruce stood and turned to the bed, whipping the sheet back and tucking the child in softly. He let his hand rest over his forehead, his forefinger and middle pressed lightly against the skin in a vertical line that reached to his nose, an ancient sign of affection. After a few seconds, his hand left his head as he turned with a small sigh to glance out the window again. Bruce swallowed slightly, his eyes flickering golden in the dark and he felt a familiar prick of heat down his back. He looked over his shoulder as he started for the door, watching the steady rising and falling of the child’s chest.

“I like you too, kid.” He whispered as he closed the door behind him and walked down the corridor, silently hanging his coat up and leaving the ward without another word.

If only you knew who I am.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :) So this chapters getting uploaded as quickly because over on my FF account, someone complained about being offended. They said I had offended their religion, and as it was done as a guest, I couldn't reply directly. I'm posting the same response here in case what I've written is indeed offensive and I haven't noticed. It definitely wasn't my intention to do so, and I'm sorry if it came across like that. Here's my explanation and apology:
> 
>  
> 
> I'm sorry this had offended you. That was never my intention. I don't know which part you're referring to, so I'll explain it a bit better. The Angel backstory was made up from a mixture of my knowledge (Catholicism being my Religion) and what I learned when studying it in school. I also searched about and read about Angels, Demons, and even Asgard. I learned about the Creation story and decided to spice it up and change sometimes around to suit the story. If its anything to do with the Indian aspect of the story, again I used the internet to find out things and add them in. In the film, Bruce is in Kolkata (Calcutta), so I'm playing around with that fact a little. I'm not claiming any of it to be accurate or right, just my take and adaption to this story. I'm not an expert on anything present here. It doesn't reflect my views on anything, as its fiction so I steered clear of my own opinions as best I could. Feel free to PM or comment what part offended you and I'll happily change it so not to upset anymore people.
> 
> Thank you, and sorry again.

The thick humid air hung heavily over the city, the landscape beginning to be engulfed in a blanket of fog. A misty hue clung to the streets tightly, suffocating any signs of movement. The evening streets were dead, the dirt roads abandoned and paths empty. Rain battered the earth and created a marshy river that flooded the paths. In this region of the city, the block of flats and houses all stood in darkness, their inhabitants long retired to bed. The air was silent, everything still as if holding breath. Slightly further down one street, a harsh yellow flare stretched across the path and muffled rabble broke the howling wind. The small, rundown pub stood a few blocks from the slums, offering a slither of shelter and the chance to escape reality for a while. It was teeming with drunken men and giggling woman, all celebrating the end of another working week. The muffled chatter broke the stiff silence of the outside world.

A dark figure casually sauntered down the street, swerving into the building with a confident stroll at the last minute with a pause. Glancing at the neon sign hanging above the door, the door was pushed open and the large hood was shoved away from his face. The man looked around after letting the door close behind him, scanning the room with a bored expression. His blue eyes pierced round the room, his earpiece concealed well. The room was large and supported a cabin-like interior. The floor was rotting wood as were the tables. Around the room, the large stoned walls stood high and sturdy, thick wooden beams running from one to the other. The tables were scattered around the room, tattered velvet chairs and benches with matching wood structures dumped anywhere close to a flat surface, giving the room an unkempt, medieval status. The man sighed slightly as he walked into the room and scanned around, dodging skilfully around drunken men and dancing women. A large group of men, playing an intense card game sat round a table close to the bar which stood large and wide against the middle of the back wall. Woman lingered in pairs around the men, hanging onto their arms and pulling faces to each other. Their heels clicked harshly against the stone flooring, their smiles wide and false. At the opposite end, a smaller group of younger men clinked glasses and bellowed loudly at each other. He walked up to a secluded part of the bar and sliding onto a stool. He tipped his chin for the waiter's attention and ordered a drink, arms slouched over the bar. With a nod of thanks as his drink arrived, the man swivelled slightly in his seat, once again looking round the buzzing room. His eyes soon landed on his target, and he dipped his head slightly as he watched.

"I have eyes, Sir." He mumbled as he tapped his ear. He smoothed his suit out, leaning back against the bar with a small, proud smirk.

"Don't let him out of sight, and report any suspicious behaviour." The crackled voice commanded over the line.

"Of course, Sir." He lifted his hand away and dropped it in his lap. He looked to either side of him, before shuffling over and making small talk with the waiter, who was looking bored as he polished a glass. All the while he kept his eye on his target.

A large group of men and women, all huddled round a small table, were chatting and laughing loudly. One man, in the middle of the drunken ramble, sat with a small smile on his face, holding a glass of water to his chest possessively. He remained silent, and only slid a word into a conversation if directed at him.

"Bruce, want a game of cards?" the shy man jumped slightly and looked over. Michael, the boy who was working on the Children's ward with him earlier, held a tattered deck out to him with a wide grin.

"Sure, why not?" Bruce smiled and placed his glass of water on the table and shimmied closer to the excited boy. A few other men joined in as the cards were dealt out and the game began.

"Ha! I'm good at this." Michael stuck his tongue out as he triumphed. The players all shook hands and decided on another game, this time more players joining in. One of the new members, a small, angry looking man slammed his pint down and demanded he would win the game.

"Yeah right, like you could." A woman laughed and winked a playful eye. The man grinned and they launched into an intense game. All the while, the agent at the bar who was watching carefully, sipped his beer and edged closer, trying to listen in to the small conversations being offered around. To begin with, he was uninterested, but soon his interest was peaked.

"Are you kidding me?" the angry man who had challenged the players to a game suddenly jeered and smirked at his peers, slapping his hands down on the table and rising. He glared them down, his bloodshot eyes jerked from man to man, picking up each of them and laughing in their faces, his breath heaving with alcohol. He skipped past the quiet man with a grumble and began to debate, mainly with himself. As his voice grew louder, men became flustered and bothered. The quiet man glared as the insults flew from his mouth, slowly drawing himself up. His eyes burned as he slowly exhaled and huffed, causing the attention to be directed toward him.

"Don't you think you're being a bit harsh here? It was only a joke." He raised an eyebrow and waited for an answer. He swallowed, realising his mistake as the drunk man turned slowly towards him. He was still unaware of being watched, the hoodied figure still lingering at the bar, eyes fixed on him.

"You believe in that crap!? You really think these ridiculous creatures protect us?!" The man yelled, almost sounding surprised. The quiet man cringed, his mind whirling for an escape. The conversation had taken a bad turn when one of the men had won a round and had happily claimed 'The Angels were on his side.' The angry man had become outraged straight away.

"All I'm saying is we have no proof either way. They may exist, they may not. I'm not siding with anyone here, just asking you value other people's opinions." He tried a small shrug, knowing he was in trouble no matter what he said. He jumped and tensed suddenly as the man snapped over the table and grabbed him by the collar and dragged him in closer.

"No, you think its true! You really believe in SunGazers? They're a myth, created to shelter children from the crap pile that's called 'life'! Angels don't exist. Are you that naïve, freak?" Squirming in the tight grip, he grimaced as a hot pain shot through his shoulders, running down his spine and spreading to his arms.

"Hey, wow. Bruce is right, theres no proof. It's not a crime to believe it or not." Michael frowned, half glaring at the drunk man. Bruce gasped for breath and broke away from the other man as he heard a rip coming from behind him, and stumbled backwards. He doubled over, hands bracing the edge of the table, his body on fire and his shirt feeling tight against his chest.

With a fearful scan of the other men, who watched him with a mix of curiosity and worry, he darted away from the company, and bolted into the night.

"Hey! Get back here!" The silence of the night was broken by the slurred shout and the pounding of feet against the icy ground and heavy panting.

With a small sigh, the figure at the bar left, following Bruce out the bar and quickly walking the same way.

Bruce raced from the pub and across the wide roads without hesitation and barrelled into the housing. He was gasping from the shooting pains that shot through him, his shirt becoming increasingly tighter. Silence caught the city once again as the exhausted man fumbled for his keys with numb fingers, head whipping round as he finally located the right key and clumsily unlocked the door. Darting in and slamming the door, Bruce huffed heavily and slid down the door into a sitting position. He dropped his head into his hands with a sigh and drew his knees in, allowing the darkness to surround him.

"Sir, I lost visuals. A scene unfolded and he fled. He's currently in his home." The figure stood across the street, eyes boring into Bruce's front door.

"Alright. Head back now, Coulson. We'll monitor what he does."

"Of course, Director." Coulson nodded to himself and with one last glance, turned and swiftly walked down the street and away from Bruce.

After a few minutes of excruciating silence and confirmation he wasn't followed, Bruce stiffly pulled himself to his knees and peered out the small window of the front door. He left out a shaky breath as he scanned the frozen night. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, tightly plastered to his body, and took deep, long breaths, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself down. After a few minutes of calming techniques, he opened his eyes and blinked. That was the closest call he'd ever had.

Bruce stood up and turned. His apartment was immaculate. The bare yet homey livingroom held a pleasant black sofa and sturdy, with a various of cream shades on the carpet, walls, and rug. Straight across the hallway, the tiny kitchen barely held an oval shape table with stools arranged around it. The worktop was spotless. He had settled well, finding a job quickly after moving in. Bruce sighed and plodded towards the bathroom, ripping his j shoes off as he went. He threw them into a corner as he past. Turning his bathroom light on, he stumbled towards the sink. He stood, leaning heavily on the basin and hung his head. He'd went and blown it all. Again.

"Why have I been so careless?" He gently cussed himself and shook his head. Looking up, he caught his reflection in the mirror and cringed. His jet black hair curled around his head like a halo, and framed his pale face. His eyes were bright and golden with deep, dark circles underneath. A steady, black line curled over his forehead, dipping towards the bridge of his nose and following each temple to flick to an end towards each eye. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair and sat down heavily on the toilet lid.

The night had started off very well, everyone dancing and singing. Bruce had left the hospital after his visit to Aiden, and met the staff that were attending the night out. He had enjoyed himself, being a very shy person and saying little but he added his say to many conversations and laughed along with his colleagues. The rapid descent could have been avoided, if he had just kept his mouth shut.

He shook his head again with an angry sigh. The place and existence of SunGazers has always been a touchy subject for many, opinions as diverse as religion and politics. It was best to never be spoken of. Especially with him, after all, they weren't that different from him.

The SunGazers lived on Earth, and looked human. They had been told by legends and ancestors, that they had the power of angels and could level any city if they so wish. Their hearts were pure as gold and they only fought for the protection of humans. SunGazers were believed to have been made by God, the Christian God, from the blood of an Angel and human. Many people laughed the legends off as a fairytale, but other marvelled and worshipped the creatures. He didn't worship them, oh no, but he knew they existed. Thanks to his stupid interfering in the heated conversation however, he was going to have to move, once again.

Growling to himself, he began to peel the thick bandage layers away from his torso that had been wrapped tightly, wincing slightly as he did. Ever since he was nine years old, he worn a bandage around his chest and back, sealing himself in. Twisting his head, he sighed. Right on his shoulder blades were two thick slashes, ripped open violently. He ripped and dumped the bloodied material into a pile on the floor. He started to fill the bath. Returning to the bedroom, he grabbed the small storage bag that was stuffed under the double bed and made his way back to the bath. He closed the door and hopped into the bathtub. Bruce dunked his head under the lapping water and scraped the stray curls back into a slick streak. He reached for the bag and found what he was looking for quickly. Pulling out a thick, small knife, which shone in the dim light, he grimaced at the object. The golden handle carved with a single symbol at the bottom of the hilt seemed to glow when he held it. Beautiful writing that read 'Uriel' twisted up from the symbol towards the blade, which was deadly and extremely sharp. It curved slightly out from the hilt, creating a leaf like shape. The man looked tiredly at the knife, before throwing a hand over his shoulder and ran a finger over his shoulder blades. His fingers bumped to a halt. A soft, fuzzy muscle feature producing slightly from both shoulder blades. His hand trailed down his spine until he reach his tailbone. Another small, fuzzy lump floated in the water. He sighed. The subject of SunGazers always caused them to spring back, a growth that without stimulation should take a full month. If emotions were heightened, growth escalated rapidly and painfully and could be completed within minutes if he didn't calm down in time.

With a grimace, he traced the other lump at his shoulder before passing the knife to his other hand. In a swift and sharp movement, he sliced the knife against the surface of each shoulder blade, chopping the producing flesh. He hissed in deep pain and rocked slightly, holding his back straight as he breathed heavily. Without hesitation, he grabbed the smaller lump at the base of his spine and slashed at it, ripping it free. The water lapping at his stomach took a red hue, as blood trickled. Turning his head slightly, the man exhaled as he lifted the three small stumps from the water. They were a few inches long and were covering in a grey fuzz, except the small thin one that previously sat on his spine. The feathers were a glossy black and littered with bright, golden ones. On the surface of the water, a few small feather floated lazily around the man. Taking a few more deep breaths, he gently flexed his shoulders, the two gashes now faint pink lines. He quickly scrubbed his back rid of the blood that crawled towards the water. As he climbed out the tub and emptied the bloody water, he threw the stumps into the bin bitterly.

"What a burden you are to me." He growled, staring at the feathery lumps with a glare. He cleaned the bath and turned tail from the bathroom. Pulling on some boxers and snuggling into his bed, he swallowed and looked out the window at the night sky. Memories flooded his vision as he looked at the individual stars and constellations. Bruce blinked and flipped round, closing his eyes with a sniff. Those days were gone. The stars, the feathery lumps, his deadly eyes, now useless to him. He lived here now, on Earth, as a normal human being, leading a normal human life with a human body. His mind casted back to his golden eyes and the feathery stumps, his wings. He wasn't Uriel, an Archangel, not anymore. He was Bruce Banner, a human being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up after a Heartbeat which is next on the list. Comment if you like :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 up! Heres where it starts to get a bit more interesting. Next update My Dark Sun :)

Bruce sat up from where he had been awkwardly crouched over a small infant and stiffly stood. Although it was twilight and he had long since decided to call it a day, he had been called in when passing by, by the distressed father when he couldn’t stop the child from crying and had realised his temperature was far higher than normal. He was now however lying in his crib, sleeping peacefully and with a much better temperature. The father had been so relieved and offered Bruce a small amount of money which he politely declined and, after explaining how to keep the child cool and what to do, had excused himself. He exited the house and merged onto the street, heading towards his own place.

It had been a few weeks since he had fled from the bar in Delhi and had to run again. Moving further south, he walked, hitchhiked, and rail-travelled as far as he thought necessary to get himself away from Delhi. He had finally settled into Kolkata, setting up a new life and identity as he had always done. He cut his hair much shorter so it wasn’t its usual curly mop, and taking up a new accent, this time Scottish and not American. He was so well-travelled that he could almost perfect most accents. He changed his name, his already fake name, from Bruce to Peter.   
He chuckled to himself slightly as he slung his bag over his shoulder further. His real name would turn heads and eyes from all over, angry and amazed. No, Uriel was definitely not a normal human name. Bruce shook his head, trying not to let the memories flood back. He wasn’t a Celestial from Celealheim anymore, he couldn’t be. He was a human being who lived here, on Earth. He had fled as a child, he didn’t live there anymore. 

He had fled Delhi the morning after the near encounter. Picking a few items that would come in handy and let in the early hours of the morning, long before anyone would come looking for him. He left a note for the man he had gained the residence from with an excuse to his sudden departure, and vanished completely. He didn’t inform the hospital, he couldn’t. They would have begged him to stay, being as short staffed as they already were. No, he had to leave without them knowing where to, even if that meant leaving little Aiden without anyone.

His heart sank slightly as his mind wandered to the small, innocent child he had cared for. He wouldn’t understand where he was, and why he had abandoned him. He wouldn’t understand when no one came to visit him, he would be left alone. He had no family to begin with. During one of their visits, he had asked Bruce where he would go once he was discharged. Bruce hadn’t known what to say, but Aiden had suddenly grinned and told him he could adopt him and he would become his Daddy. Bruce had been incredibly touched, and had nodded with a little smile. He knew however he couldn’t keep the child, not when he was a danger to be around. However, thinking back to that moment, Bruce sighed slightly. Adopting the child would have been a dream to him, however impossible it was. He didn’t know anything about the child’s history or background for starters. Would he even survive without the medication?

Bruce shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. Aiden was fine, and would be. He would visit him again. He would go at night, or wait until everything had calmed down. Turning up now and letting emotions get the better of him would be disastrous. 

“Dr. Ramson, I need your help, my child.” Bruce was pulled from his thoughts as he heard his false name. He turned to see a young woman running up to him with terrified eyes. He nodded wordlessly, turning on his heels and following her frantic pace through the bustling streets. He weaved in and out of the crowds. He looked at ease but his heart was hammered inside. He took deep breaths, forcing himself to relax before another encounter could occur. That wouldn’t be a good idea. He took a shaky breath before squaring his shoulders.

Bruce had continued to help and aid the sick and poorly struck down by the Flu which was still striking people down daily. The medical expertise and qualifications which he had taken an extreme interest in when he first appeared on Earth, was something he took comfort in. All the past pain and suffering Humans had experienced because of his kind, he felt like he was trying to repay them in an unknown way.

He quickly entered the house and soon found the patient. The mother gently lifted the screaming infant, bright red in the face and tear-soaked. Bruce softly took her and cooed for her to quieten. After an initial struggle, she settled quite quickly into his arms with only a small whimper occasionally. He continued to coo and mumble reassurance as he examined her, the mother watching anxiously beside him. He gently explained what he was checking and what his verdict was after each test.

“She’s alright, only a fever. It should disappear within a few days at most.” He gently handed her back to her relieved mother and, after asking for permission, fished a cloth from his bag and soaked it in water from a nearby pale, before placing it over her forehead. He explained what to do and where to find him if her condition deteriorated, and left, again declining payment.

It was dark outside by now, the sun long set and the darkness settling over the quietening village. Bruce trudged back towards his shack once again, feeling worn down and exhausted. He had been tending to different families and patients since dawn, and had even been to the other local villages. 

Bruce climbed the small hill to his shack and pushed the door open. He stumbled into the small home and dropped his bag in a corner, and kicking the door closed. He plopped down into the armchair close to the door and let out a small sigh of relief. His bones ached and his eyes were heavy, after a few minutes of rest however, he would be back to normal. He always did.

Benefit of being a freak, he morbidly thought to himself with a soft chuckle. Looking over at an unlit candle, he glared at it before looking at his hand. He could light it with a flick of his finger. 

Humans don’t possess weird abilities, like fire wielding, Bruce glowered to himself, instead picking up a match and striking it. Watching the flames flicker, he could feel the heat and energy raidiating towards him. With a small blink, he curved the flame around playfully, letting it dance under his command. With a sigh, he lit some candles for light. He threw the burnt match into the ashtray, heading into the small kitchen and rummaging for something to eat. Finally pulling out some fruit from a cupboard, he took his meal back to the chair and sat down again, tucking in to his food hungrily.

All at once, he suddenly felt a rush of air blasting through the open window. He frowned and lowered the mango he had been about to bite and stood slowly. He crept towards the window and peered out into the otherwise undisturbed darkness. He shrugged to himself after a few minutes and pulled back, closing the window as he did. 

No sooner than he done that, there was a knock at the door, frantic and quick. Barely supressing a groan, he heaved himself over and opened the door, looking down into the eyes of a six year old girl, clutching a handful of coins in her hand. She was tiny for her age, her long, messy hair flowing down her back unevenly. She looked up with wide brown eyes and as Bruce caught her gaze, launched into a panicked description of her father who wouldn’t wake up.

“Calm down, Its alright.” Bruce smiled gently and grabbed his bag and quickly gestured for her to show him the way, pulling the door closed as he did. Together, they jogged through the night, until they reached what must have been the house. The girl burst in, gabbling loudly to her mother who had jumped up at the noise. She quickly approached her, but turned her attention to Bruce as he entered, looking around.

“Thank you, Dr. He’s here.” The woman gently but firmly pulled Bruce by the arm towards a bed, occupied by a man and a small boy. “My son has refused to move, I’m sorry.” The little sullen boy looked up at Bruce for a moment before going back to clinging to his poorly father. The man merely coughed and moaned.

“That’s fine. Kid, would you mind If I look at your Dad? I want to help make him better.” Bruce kneeled down next to the protective child who nodded slowly and let Bruce in, shimmying over slightly but refusing to move any further. Bruce accepted that as a victory and began his usual checkup routine. He was quick to apply all the remedies and supply the knowledge he could to the family and patient in how to aid his recovery. He let them with a soothing balm for his aching muscles and insisted he drank more fluids and promised to return if he didn’t recover fully within a few days.

After being thanked and this time payment thrusted on his with a stern smile, he left and returned home. Pushing the door open and dropping his bag again, he froze. He looked into the dark house and slowly closed the door. He hadn’t put the candles out when he left. He rounded into the small living area and paused, barely supressing a sharp inhale. A figure stood in the corner, almost shielded from view. Bruce, with his keen eyesight, shifted forward. Unfortunately, the figure was unfazed and merely light a match they had been holding. Slowly watching round the room, the now obvious female figure lit all the candles one by one, her face gradually becoming visible.

“Hello Dr. Banner.” Bruce blinked, his heart beginning to speed up. He eyed the red haired woman, dressed casually in a long flowing dress with red lips. She flashed a smile and continued to walk around the room, looking at various things with a dull interest.

“Its Ra-“ Bruce took a cautious step forward but hesitated when the woman chuckled and looked over at him.

“No, I know who you are, Bruce Banner.” She rolled her eyes slightly and sat down in the chair opposite Bruce, motioning for him to sit in the remaining one. He did, slowly and unsure.

“Who are you?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” Natasha inclined her head in greeting. Bruce only raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you here?” He glared, untrusting. The woman merely smiled again, crossing her legs and sitting back elegantly.

“I’m here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., I hope you didn’t mind the little play I had put on for you there, but I couldn’t have you making a scene.” Bruce blinked as she smirked a little.

“You mean that-“

“Yes, that man wasn’t really ill. I only asked the little girl to get you out here, so I can get in. Harder to turn someone away once they’re already in, isn’t it?” Natasha smiled sweetly and innocently at Bruce who growled.

“So why did you break in? Why have S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever been tracking me?”

“I didn’t say I’ve been tracking you.”

“Well it’s a pretty amazing coincidence you know who I am and where to find me if you haven’t.” He folded his arms and watched her with an angry gleam in his eye.

“Alright. Yes, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been monitoring you, and now we need you to come in.” Bruce swallowed. They knew, they knew what he was.

“Why?”

“Dr, we’re facing a potential global catastrophe, and we need your help.” Natasha sat forward, pulling a phone out and quickly tapping it a few times. Bruce watched, a wave of relief flooding through him. They didn’t know, he was safe. For now anyway.

“Things like that I actively try to avoid.” He cooly replied, trying to sound casual. He couldn’t help it however, he was curious. Natasha stood and gently perked on the arm of his chair and shoved the phone into his view. He gently took it, peering at the shimmering blue cube as a feeling of dread washed over him.

“This is the Tesseract, and it’s been stolen from us. We need your help getting it back. It emits a gamma signature that’s too weak for us to trace. You’re the best expert on Gamma we know of, so we need you to track it down.” Bruce grimaced slightly, recognising the name. Last he had heard about it, it was long buried along with Captain America. It was an infinity Stone, and in the wrong hands, dangerous.

“Who took it from you?” Bruce frowned up, acting as dumb and clueless as possible. Natasha seemed to fall for it, not challenging him further.

“Someone called Loki. He’s from another world, a God basically.” Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly. Loki. The Frost Giant posing as an Asgardian. He had heard the story of the Great Odin pitying a dying child in battle and adopting him as his own, along with his son, Thor. Loki had caused problems before, Bruce wasn’t surprised he was behind it all. Christ, the God of mischief had tried to wipe out his own species’ home out of anger, and then after failing to banish Thor and take Odin’s place, threw himself to his death. Well, obviously not his death.

“Oh. What if I say no?” Bruce stood, still looking at the picture. He glanced up at Natasha with an amused frown. If he got himself involved, it wouldn’t end well. Not with his past, he was responsible for innocent deaths, he had blood on his hands that he hadn’t repented for. If the Tesseract was causing havoc, the Celestials would surely get involved. He couldn’t be anywhere near them if they did. He didn’t want to find out what they would do if they found out he was alive.

“I’ll persuade you.” Natasha smirked casually, standing up and walking closer, a dark look in her eyes. Bruce’s lips twitched, his scars beginning to prickle.

“Will you?” he asked dangerously. Natasha merely smiled and turned on her heel, opening the window and giving Bruce a clear view of the soldiers standing by.

“Any sudden movements and you’ll be sleeping for days. We don’t know why, but we know you’re on the run from something, whether that’s General Ross or something else. You’re apparently a dangerous man, but that doesn’t matter to us now, not with Loki on the loose.” Bruce blinked, shifting uncomfortably.

General Ross was a good cover to use; the unfortunate experiment gone wrong when Bruce had ran into the testing area after seeing a teenager in the line of the Gamma beam. The General had been testing and looking for the same serum that had created Captain America, the super soldier. Bruce had panicked and ran into the danger zone, pushing the boy out the way and instead, getting hit by the beam. Bruce, being a Celestial and being of extreme power, wasn’t affected by the radiation, but however, his stumps sprouted with the pain and shock, a ripple of fire burst out his hands to protect him. His shirt ripped and left him shirtless with feather stumps, inches in length exposed to view. Bruce had quickly tried to hide them and ran, leaving the building and running for hours on end. He hadn’t looked back since, jumping from town to town, terrified Ross had seen his wings and fire. He wasn’t sure if he had, but the look of shock and anger on his face when the beam had ran its course was enough to set alarm bells ringing. Being the power driven General, Bruce didn’t doubt he would try and produce humans with his abilities and powers.

“Why does S.H.I.E.L.D. want the Tesseract anyway? From the sounds of it, its pretty dangerous.” Bruce raised an eyebrow and looked over Natasha, still not convinced.

“That you’ll have to ask yourself. Come on.” She sauntered to the door, not watching if Bruce followed. Instead, the man watched with a worried frown. If he didn’t go, the Tesseract could be mistreated, and could easy level Earth. However, if he did go with her, he was wading into dangerous territory himself, and the people around him. He had no choice though, he couldn’t leave the hate-filled Asgardian with such a powerful Stone.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking out the window at the poorly concealed soldiers. He swallowed, not feeling he had an option against this.

“If I come with you and help find this tesseract, I leave immediately afterwards.” Bruce reasoned with the redhead, catching up to her in the doorway. She turned her eye onto him, and gave a faint smile and nod. He nodded himself, before excusing himself. He quickly grabbed his travel bag which held his few possessions and met Natasha outside.

“This way, Doc.” She strode towards a large high-tech jet and climbed the ramp, somehow looking beautiful in the harsh wind created by the blades. Her hair danced around her shoulders as her dress fluttered around her ankles, while Bruce’s jacket whipped against him hard. Once inside, he barely suppressed a groan. Soldiers were sitting in most of the seats, their weapons close to hand. They looked up as Natasha entered, but tensed when Bruce appeared. He noticed some hands reaching for their guns.   
“Come on.” Natasha sent a glare to the soldiers before leading Bruce into a smaller room, looking like a poorly designed bedroom.  
“Here, you should read this. It’ll give you an idea of what’s been said and planned back at headquarters.” Natasha pulled out what Bruce thought to be a large tablet, and passed it over. Immediately, he began to look at the screen, cringing as he did.

It was a list of profiles. His was included. He tapped his first, reading the information and feeling the sigh of relief when he only read harmless details, such as his graduations and employment. He however noticed a small window and frowned at it. A short paragraph about his work with Ross’s experiments described the first Encounter. It didn’t mention wings or abnormal activities, the only worrying thing was the theory of a small fire breaking out because of the intensity of the gamma.

Shaking his head slightly, he flicked over to the next profile, aware of Natasha’s lingering presence. It was about a man named Tony Stark. Bruce recognised that name from somewhere. As he read, he remembered the connections and learned some new things; like he called himself Iron Man now after building a flying suit. Huh, that was odd.

The next profile was Natasha’s. She watched his reaction as it glossed over her backgrounds; the Red Room, Assassinations, and recruitment to S.H.I.E.L.D. He didn’t comment, not wanting to make her feel awkward or upset her, not that he thought he could. She seemed the type to retort hurtful comments back and figuring her past, wouldn’t hesitate to wipe you out.

Clint Barton’s profile was next, a much shorter one. It spoke of a circus and his recruitment to S.H.I.E.L.D. Apparently, he was a world-class marksman and highly accurate archer.

Steve Rogers was last, talking about his time during the war and his disappearance. In this profile however, Bruce noticed the paragraph veer to mention the Tesseract, and spoke of its discovery within Hydra’s hands and the fight to get it back. Looks like the idea of hiding it on Earth was one of the worst things the Celestials and Asgardians did.

“These people you’ll be dealing with, so I thought it would be better you understood who they were and why they were called in too.” Bruce looked up as Natasha spoke, casually leaning against the wall close to him.

“Why do you need a Supersoldier, and a man with a metal suit?” Bruce grumbled, not really wanting to hear the answer. 

“Backup. We’re not convinced Loki will give up without a fight. Talk to Fury, he needs you on this.”

“Fury?” Bruce blinked up.

“The Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. He’s the one who sent for you, and who called in the others.” Bruce nodded wordlessly, dropping the tablet onto the table and rubbing his eyes. “I’ll be on the bridge if you need me. Get some rest, you’ll need it.” And with that, she was gone before Bruce could even look up from his slouched position.

Sitting back slightly, he eyed the bag at his feet, with his belongings in it. He quickly pulled out the smaller bag, and opened it. Yanking it free, he turned the knife in his hand, feeling it fitting in his hand perfectly. His name shone clearly against his palm as he caught his reflection in the blade’s shine. He stood up and grabbed a small hooked item. Curling it round the tip of the blade, he fixed the arms around the hilt, and then quickly shoved the knife under his belt. He slid the blade under his trousers and onto his leg, concealing it completely.

Moving to the bag again, he pulled out a longer, yet thicker handle. It however held no blade, only a stumped ending. The handle was sword-like, and had carving similar to the small knife. Sliding this into his pockets, he reached for the last items. A pair of curled up metal was pulled out. At closer glance, each of the identical spirals started with a head-like handle, an open mouth with fangs posed, looking similar to that of a snake’s. The body was thick and sturdy, ending in a thinner, sharp point.

Bruce traced one with a small sigh. After a moment, he pulled his shirt off and he took one of the spirals and wrapped his hand around the handle. Instantly, it loosened, and uncoiled, unfolding into a long whip. Bruce mumbled a word, ancient and unknown to anyone but his kind. The tail responded immediately, coiling up his arm and wrapping tightly around. He let go of the handle and watched it snake halfway up his lower arm. He commanded the second whip to do the same on his other arm. He pulled his shirt back on, flexing slightly so the whips settled and hardened into place. 

Bruce knew he was possibly overreacting, but he felt the strange need to prepare and armour himself. He shuddered as the memories of the last time he had used each of the different weapons. He had promised himself he would never use them again. That didn’t mean though that he couldn’t be prepared; they were last resorts. It’s not like Loki would recognise him anyway, he had never met him, only his father and brother briefly. No, he would be safe in that respect, and the humans didn’t exactly have the ability to contact the Celestials, or what was left of them.

With a shake of his head, Bruce kicked the now empty bag back into the larger one and shoved it under the table. Pulling his shoes off, he fell onto the sofa and was asleep in minutes.

He was awoken to a soft knock at the door. Bolting up with a gasp, Bruce steadied himself, forcing his tense body to relax. Standing on unsteady feet, he stumbled to the door and yanked it open. Natasha stood, taking in his ruffled hair and tired eyes with an almost sympathetic expression. Well that was unexpected.

“Sorry to wake you, but we’re landing in about 10 minutes. You should get ready.” Bruce nodded wordlessly and stifled a yawn. “Come to the bridge and I’ll meet you there.” She nodded and turned on her heels, stalling away. Bruce frowned after her, now more awake. She looked constantly tense and angry, like something was eating her away. He shrugged it off, and closed the door again. 

Instead of getting ready like the agent had suggested, Bruce sat and watched out the window. He watched as the apparent landing pad approached. It was a strangely shaped ship in the middle of the ocean. What an odd place to anchor down. He didn’t have time to contemplate, the jet gently touching down and securing into place.

“Here we go.” Bruce mumbled to himself. He grabbed his bag, quickly pulling on a fresh shirt. With a confirming glance to his whips and knife to check they were still in place, he shoved the old shirt into his bag and shoulder it. With a deep breath to calm his jumping nerves, he left the room. As he walked along the corridor, he shoved his hand into his pocket, letting it curl around the bladeless knife for comfort.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. Sorry for being a little slow in updating this one, I was away for a week on holiday and then started back at university so was being bombarded with loads of essays. My Dark Sun will be the next one to be updated, probably towards the end of this week. I'm going to set my target of updating at least one of the stories once a week, I can do that, right?

“Its not hard, steal it back.”

“Stark, so help me.” The fuming man with the eye patch glared at the other smirking man. Tony Stark rolled his eyes dramatically, but decided to keep his mouth shut and didn’t reply.

They were in a high tech lab, a large, curved sceptre hooked up to various machines with multiple tests running sat in the centre of the widest workstation. In the head’s centre, a small, gleaming crystal flickered a light blue hue around. Bruce was standing close to it, the dim glow illuminating his light coloured jeans slightly. He wasn’t paying much attention to the strange object beside him; his mind more focussed on the tension between everyone present and keeping his heartrate under control. He was however wary, he knew this gem was infused with the Tesseract, which made it incredibly powerful and dangerous.

After the jet that had taken Bruce had landed securely, Natasha quickly led him off and onto a wide open deck, where lots of similar jets sat. It was all a levelled runway, with various ‘parking’ and open bays. There was a small raised hut at one side, supporting a single doorway. He curiously asked Natasha if it was a submarine or ship, confused as to where the sails were. Human ships usually always had some form of a sail to help the steering and movement of the craft, but there was nothing climbing into the sky, and no obvious area for one to be situated. She had smiled slightly and shook her head. Before she started to explain, she looked behind Bruce and inclined her head, walking past with a small glance to him. Bruce watched as she nodded to a balding man who looked positively beside himself with excitement as he introduced the tall, blonde man beside him. Natasha greeted him and had brought him back to where Bruce was still standing, awkwardly shifting around men and woman as they buzzed around him.

“Dr. Banner.” The man smiled, almost relieved and clasped his hand politely.

His expression was just as lost, his blue eyes scanning their surroundings warily. His name was Steve Rogers. Bruce, vaguely remembered what was said on the profile for this man, sometimes known as Captain America, was surprised at his reaction to the surroundings, but he nodded and smiled to him all the same. He hadn’t thought he would have seemed so confused and taken back considering he lived on this planet, but he wasn’t complaining; around Steve he didn’t feel as out of touch.

That was before an alarm signal cut through the still air and people began to swiftly move, some darting to the single door while others began to clip and hook various items down to the deck. Natasha had thankfully given the men a few moments to watch as large propellers began to emerge from the churning waters and they began to ascend, wobbling slightly at first before levelling out as they climbed slowly towards the clouds. She stood back, watching silently as Bruce and Steve stared down at the large fans; Bruce’s face barely suppressing a wide grin.

This was the closest he had been to flying, his hair scrapped behind him with the gusts, the wind whipping his cheeks and whooshing past his ears. He had closed his eyes and let himself feel the thrill again. He missed flying, spreading his wings and letting the winds carry him over the land far below. He could almost feel the cool air sweeping through the feathers, earning a shiver of pleasure down his spine. Steve hardly noticed Bruce’s enjoyment, his eyes wide and unmoving from the propellers. He only shifted when Natasha walked over to them after a few minutes of waiting.

She had stood nearby and allowed them to get their bearings and understand their surroundings. Being a spy, she knew all too well the importance and reassurance of knowing exactly what you were in, and where you were. She felt a small smile creep onto her lips as she watched Bruce ever so slightly open his hands to feel the air blasting past him. He looked content and happy as the winds began to increase, blowing his hair and clothes around. He took no notice, only closing his eyes for a moment with a small sigh. He looked deep in thought, or memories. She shook her head and stepped forward. The wind would only keep increasing until it would become too much for them to stay upright.

That was yesterday. Now, Bruce stood in the lower deck and watched as the ship’s director, Nick Fury jeered and snarled at Tony Stark, who had joined Bruce and Steve a few hours after they initially boarded. When he had first appeared, he had immediately launched into a long winded debate mainly with himself about the possibilities of what Loki was planning. Bruce, with his limited and aged knowledge, added in various suggestions and corrected him a few times, finally earning a handshake and grin from the billionaire. He had studied physics endlessly, but had never kept up with the updates and new findings in research. The last time he had read a textbook was just before the First World War, the most recent of his knowledge acquired through rumours and other people spreading results.

He and Tony had been asked to retire to the lab and began to try and locate the Tesseract, which Bruce was eager to do. He very quickly examined and worked out how to use the various machines and equipment around him and set about his work. The quicker he found it and S.H.I.E.L.D. got it back, the quicker he could leave and hide out in a remote area again. That couldn’t come quicker for him; since being on the ship, he had to excuse himself five times to calm his tinging scars, one time having to wash and change shirt, the scars opening fully after a heated argument between Tony and Steve, the material soaked in blood as the stumps began to grow again.

He could feel them now, itching to grow and stretch as Fury rolled his eyes and casted a glance at Natasha who was standing next to Thor. Bruce had initially panicked when Thor had appeared. They had stopped in Germany, where Steve was sent down to stop and capture Loki. He eventually returned with him, Tony and Thor also in pursuit. Bruce had met Thor once during a settling with the Arkes and Asgardians, however briefly. He had tensed and ducked his head when he entered, terrified he would recognise him and announce him to the room. However, he only frowned slightly before shaking his head minutely and clasping his shoulder in greeting, much to Bruce’s relief.

“You’re wanting that thing to make weapons, why should we help you?” Steve brought Bruce out his thoughts. The Captain was standing with his arms folded and eyebrow raised at the Director, an unhappy expression clear on his features. Bruce looked up with a frown, an uneasy feeling washing over him. He hadn’t listened to the conversation, preferring to stare and concentrate on the data in front of him. Now however, he was staring at the Director, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Weapons? From the Tesseract?” Bruce huffed, causing the standoff between Steve and Fury to break slightly as they looked over at him. Natasha crossed her arms and perched onto the workstation beside Bruce. He ignored her.

“You tuned out over there?” Tony frowned, amused. He smiled slightly, not patronising him. “That’s what Rogers found out, first hand.” Fury bristled slightly.

“Stark. We have all the information we need about the tesseract, we know what we’re doing.”

Do you though?, Bruce rolled his eyes as he shook his head. It took him a moment to realise that he hadn’t thought that, but spoke it, as Fury was now glaring at him, turning to face him fully. Tony rounded and stood next to Bruce, appear casual but Bruce caught the angry glance he sent Fury and the protective stance he took.

“Yes, Banner, we do. We studied it and know it all. Its power can easily be harnessed and used in weapons safely.” Bruce hissed slightly, baring his teeth.

“And for how long did you study it? You don’t know everything about this Stone, and that makes it dangerous for you to use in weapons.” Bruce’s voice was even, but held a dark tone. Fury raised an amused eyebrow.

“And you’re an expert on it?”

“I know its dangerous, that’s all that matters.” Tony smirked slightly in agreement and popped a blueberry into his mouth, chewing slowly.

“Why do you need such weapons anyway? You trying to start another war?” Steve frowned at the Director, looking over at Natasha quickly.

“We’re simply preparing in case we need them.” Tony laughed out loud.

“And what exactly qualifies for a weapon of mass destruction? Zombie apocalypse?” Bruce blinked, not knowing what Tony meant by a ‘Zombie’, but he gathered the gist of what he was meaning.

“Him.” Fury pointed at Thor, the vein on his forehead close to bursting with the furious glare he sent them all. Thor drew himself up, a hurt expression flashing on his features before he returned the glare.

“What do you have me to blame for?”

“Asgardians, like Loki, can very easily outgun and basically top most of what we can offer; strength, mortality, you name it. Same with the Angels, Demons, and whatever other worlds are out there. If they so desired, Earth could be wiped out in a heartbeat, with no hope of fighting back. We need to step our game up, if we’re to survive in this universe.” Fury puffed a breath from his nose as he finished, looking round the astonished faces. Natasha even looked slightly thrown, despite being an agent of the organisation, not knowing the reason behind the ongoing hunt. Bruce glanced at her but her gaze was set evenly on Fury.

“No. Way. You seriously pulled us all here, because you’re worried about a winged guy wearing a dress attacking you? Fury, they things don’t even exist.” Tony jeered. Bruce paused in his deep glare at the Director to swallow and take a deep breath. They were about to enter dangerous territory here, and if he wasn’t careful, would easily let his guard slip.

“Whether they do or don’t, you can’t do that Fury. This is the first attack from another world, and these plans are a lot older than the day the Tesseract was stolen.” Steve shook himself and stepped forwards, stabbing a finger at the model replica he had pulled from the store room when he had gone looking for answers.

“What about the Falling? Do you not remember that?” Fury spat, face contorting in his rage. Bruce winced slightly at that.

“Yeah yeah, its mythical crap, Fury. Do you really think demons and angels fought over Earth? It was some natural disaster and people have pinned it on myths to make it seem more of an event.”

“No, Stark. That’s not the story and you know it.” Fury raised an eyebrow, “whether it happened or didn’t, we should be prepared no matter what. Whatever caused it, the casualties were through the roof.”

Bruce had tuned out again, lost in his thoughts. His mind wandered to the Falling, or the Betrayal as it was called on Celealheim. Hundreds of Celestial and human lives alike were taken that night as they were caught in the slaughter. Bruce shivered slightly as he remembered the terrific fear he had felt for the first time, the guilt weighting down on him. His heart lulled slightly as he thought back to the small child he used to tell the story to over and over again. He never tired of hearing it, his eyes wide and mouth agape as he listened.

“Even if you did have the weapons, you could never fend off an attack from another world.” Bruce shook his head and looked back over at Fury.

“Are you some expert on this?” Fury raised an unamused eyebrow and crossed his arms. Bruce cleared his throat as he felt all eyes turn to him.

“No, but if you seriously believe you can hold off an army of Angels or Asgardians with this, you’re in for a surprise.” Fury only rolled his eyes and shook his head. He turned on his heels and began to leave, pausing slightly to send one last glare over his shoulder.

“Either way, weapons or no weapons, find the Tesseract.” And with that, he was gone. The room was silent, only broken when Tony sighed loudly and chuckled.

“He’s the life and soul of a party.” He mumbled, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

“He is truly mistaken; Banner is correct. This weapon will never hold off an attack. Maybe a single Asgardian would eventually fall under its power, but not more than that.” Thor regarded the weapon model for a second, before turning to face the others.

“I don’t know if I trust S.H.I.E.L.D. with the Tesseract now, but we can’t leave it with Loki, that’s worse. Thor, where can it go? Is it better with the Angels or Asgardians?” Steve frowned over slightly. His voice was polite and enquiring, but his tone was dominant and held an element of control. Tony seemed to pick up on this as he bristled slightly.

“It belongs out of reach of those incapable of understanding its true powers. Originally, it was held on Asgard, and I believe it is safer there.” Bruce nodded an agreement to Thor. Tony frowned deeply.

“Hold on, you believe in Angels?” He half laughed as he sent a surprised glance to Steve, his returning glance darkening.

“Yes. I’ve seen one, back when I was a kid,” Bruce bristled, looking in wonder at Steve and trying to remember the last time an Angel was sighted on Earth. It wasn’t as recent as Steve claimed, he thought with a frown.

“You seen one?” Tony stared in mocking disbelief. The soldier glared before shaking his head.

“I believe that’s what I saw, yes. Either way, whatever I believe doesn’t help with this whole Tesseract thing.” Tony shrugged after a few moments, but still watched Steve with mistrust. 

“Send it back. The Tesseract, I mean. Once we find it, theres nothing anyone can say if you return it to its original hiding spot wherever that was.” Natasha spoke up, looking up from where she was bent over a gun, gently polishing it. Bruce watched her, a small shiver gripping him. She looked deadly, but beautiful. He shook the thought off and turned his attention back to the screen now in front of him. Natasha, however, caught the glance and minute uncomfortable expression, and smirked.

“The Tesseract belongs on Asgard, out of reach to anyone who would use its powers.” Thor slowly nodded.

“So we just steal it back, and send it to Asgard?” Steve raised a questioning eyebrow. Everyone either shrugged or nodded.

“Better than being left here where it can get into the wrong hands. Better defences on Asgard.” Bruce grimaced slightly. He folded his arms and tried to mimic Tony’s posture, his natural stance completely different from what would be considered normal. His back would stand impossibly straight to allow his wings to either fold and spread or relax against him. With a small roll of his shoulders, he hunched them forwards and slouched, perfecting the look he had practised for many years in disguise, feeling the strain against the wounds. 

“That still doesn’t help with the agents Loki has.” Natasha looked up slightly, casting a glance around.

“Agents?” Bruce blinked and looked over in confusion. He winced slightly as Tony smirked in amusement at him yet again. He should have listened when Fury was giving them a rundown of the situation, but instead of doing that, he favoured studying his surroundings. Although he had heard of all their names and functions, he had never seen most of the equipment personally, He marvelled at their unique designs and construction while Fury ratted on about the ‘apocalyptic’ situation.

“Loki has them under some spell. Something about the spectre.” She nodded to the offending object which was still glowering under the lab’s dim lighting.

“I shall see to that. If I can locate them, It should be simple enough to remove the effects from their brains.” Thor nodded minutely from where he was leaning against a nearby table.

“How do we do that?” Steve frowned over, doubt clear in his tone.

“A sharp blow to the head should be sufficient enough.” Natasha bristled slightly, barely enough to notice. Bruce however caught the uncomfortable shift and watched her return to her poker face, looking bored and uninterested as she dropped the gun to her side.

“What about our orders?”

“Rogers, Fury isn’t interested in helping the majority, he’s only worried about saving his own ass. JARVIS hacked it all, and found this file.” Tony rounded towards the screen and pulled up a document. They all crowded closer to inspect the screen.

“Avengers Initiative?” Bruce frowned, not understanding what exactly that meant. Tony minutely nodded as he took in the rest of their reactions; all confused or surprised.

“Fury never told you?” He turned to Natasha who offered a small shake of her head, followed by a shrug.

“He doesn’t tell me everything, only what I need to know.”

“Well maybe you need to know this. It was an idea he had ages ago to, as he put it ‘bring together a group of remarkable people’.”

“Like a team?” Bruce blinked, a feeling of unease settling over him.

“Something like that. If someone or something threatened the Earth, we would step in and ‘fight the battles that they never could’. He never spoke to anyone about it?”

“No. I’ve never heard of this.” Steve shook his head, looking dazed. “Maybe that was his idea, to initiate this plan if you both couldn’t find the Tesseract. Who was included?”

“I don’t know, he only mentioned it to me once. Told me I didn’t qualify.” Tony snorted slightly at that. “The plans for it obviously failed, he wanted to basically create a backup defence mechanism in case something becomes a big problem.” The group fell into silence, collectively frowning. Steve was the one to break it, looking up and catching each eye before he began.

“Well, Loki can’t be left with the Tesseract, we can all agree on that.” A small rumble of agreement urged him on. “So we should focus on getting that back, team or no team.”

“Agreed. I will focus on finding Loki and these Agents, while Stark and Banner locate the Tesseract.” Thor nodded before swiftly leaving the room without as much as a glance behind him. Bruce watched him leave, frowning slightly and feeling out of place.

“Well Brucey, time to find this cube.” Tony loudly proclaimed in a singsong voice, ripping Bruce from his thoughts with a jolt. He quickly collected himself and nodded, fiddling to put his glasses back on before moving back to the sceptre. 

“Natasha, can you help me with the S.H.I.E.L.D. software? I want to learn more about this Avengers idea.” The agent didn’t respond, only slipping off the counter and beckoning the soldier to follow her. They left silently, leaving the two men alone with the whirling of equipment to keep them from plunging into a too deep silence.   
Tony was the first to break it a few minutes later, clearing his throat to catch the other man’s attention. Bruce looked up slightly with a frown, hands pausing in their work.

“So, you got a thing for death?” Tony casually breezed, a small smirk appearing as Bruce blinked in stunned silence.

“Excuse me?” Bruce spluttered, eyes wide. He watched in confused awe as Tony perched on the workstation beside him and mockingly tutted. Bruce tensed slightly, eyes narrowing as he took the man in, sizing him up. He didn’t register a threat, but his words were setting alarm bells off. Why would he ask something like that if it wasn’t in a threatening manner? Bruce gripped the sceptre slightly as he squared his shoulders slightly, feeling the soft tightening of metal against his forearms. Tony noticed his reaction and shook his head with a prolonged eye roll.

“You and Romanoff. You didn’t have a clue what was going on that whole time. You were way too busy eyeing her up, not that I blame you, but she’s terrifying, accurate, and pretty much hates everyone from what I’ve seen. Not your type I don’t think, Brucey.” It was all Bruce could do to stop his jaw from slacking open in shock. His body tensed further, not in preparation, but surprise and shock.

“You think I was distracted by Natasha?” Bruce raised an eyebrow weakly. Slowly, he lowered the sceptre back onto the stand and fixed his glasses nervously. He forced himself to calm down, lowering his heartrate as quickly as he could. “No. I wasn’t. I wasn’t looking at her. I just wasn’t interested in the pathetic excuse Fury was trying to spin.” Tony snorted in agreement.

“That’s a pretty good recovery if I do say so myself. She’d totally be into you though, if she can even do the whole romance thing. She doesn’t strike me as the cute girlfriend type. Definitely hot, but I wouldn’t go near her, you can’t trust her. I mean-“ Tony spiralled into a rant, delving into an event in the past which involved himself and Natasha and trust issues.

Bruce listened for a few minutes before his mind wandered again. He was still awed that Tony had believed he was attracted to the female agent. Sure, he had stared, but more out of mistrust and curiosity. After all, she had staged a whole situation back in Delhi to get him out his own house so she could break in for the element of surprise.

Bruce shook his head and focused his attention back on Tony, whose tongue was still running a mile a minute. This man had hardly known him a full two days, and here he was, explaining his life and past to him. Despite his attempts to conceal his true nature, there were parts he simply couldn’t hide, such as the infamous trust aroma he gave off. Angels were the most trustworthy beings, sworn to secrecy by nature. No matter how hard Bruce tried, he would never be able to hide his personality or impressions judged by people he met.

He grunted a little as he almost pouted in frustration. No matter how hard he tried, he wouldn’t ever become a fully fledge human being.

“-kicked ass. Like literally. It was so erotic and terrifying at the same time. She just started flipping and doing things with her body that looked impossible.” Tony shuddered, sending a glance at Bruce who had finally turned his gaze back to the billionaire. “Did you tune out again? Seriously? Can’t handle thinking of her?”

“I didn’t, I was listening.” Bruce reassured with a small sigh and glare. Tony opened his mouth, eyes twinkling with his unspoken retort. The words never left his lips however, as the doors to the lap slid open. Both men looked over as Steve strode in, looking partially shocked and extremely uncomfortable. He exchanged glances to the scientists before nodding slightly.

“We found Loki.” Tony blinked, before grinning emotionlessly. Bruce inclined his chin in gladdened distaste.

“Where is he?” Tony raised an eyebrow as Steve hesitated slightly, shoulders slumping a fraction and his eyes unsure. “Is this news I want to hear?”

“Yes, it is. Natasha and I found more about the Avengers Initiative. Did you know he planned to stage an issue to round the suspected members up?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. The Captain was stalling in Loki’s whereabouts. With a glance to Tony, he was also thinking the same thing, and didn’t look pleased.

“Nope, but I’m not surprised. Loki?” he pressed, eyes narrowing, now in suspicion. Steve minutely glanced behind him before stepping further into the room and allowing the door to fully close before taking a deep breath and exhaling audibly. Tony looked back at Bruce, who was watching Steve. His heart was hammering, feeling the tension wavering from the soldier. The bandages were straining once again, tighter than ever.

“We found him, and he’s now here. On the carrier.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Where is he?” Natasha’s voice broke the silence in the room. Through the speakers, a short chuckle rang out. Tony was standing across Bruce, who was beside Natasha. Steve sat at the table between them, and Thor stood a little off, not focussing on the conversation. Shortly after Steve had broken the news to Bruce and Tony about Loki’s arrival, the group had quickly gathered once again, this time in the conference area on the bridge. It stood on a higher platform from the controls, overlooking the machines like a stage.

 

“And why are you so concerned, Agent?” Loki sweet voice innocently asked, turning to look at the monitor that allowed them to see him. The large screen displayed on the glass table flickered slightly as he cracked a grin, making Tony hiss. Bruce noted the deep, swirling blue gaze and grimaced. The hostility, the anger, Loki was clearly under either hypnosis or a spell. The others didn’t seem to notice, only Thor who wasn’t looked at the screen. He had looked pained when the feed first started playing, whether from the realisation of Loki’s mind control, or the pain of seeing his brother again, Bruce couldn’t decide.

 

“He’s innocent, Loki.” Fury tried. He was in the same room as Loki. On his arrival, they transported him into a holding cell, much to his amusement. A horde of guards escorted him down, all their guns pointing and cocked at him. For someone who was being held prisoner, he didn’t seem bothered, putting up little to no resistance.

 

“No one is ever fully innocent.” Loki laughed with a shrug. Beside him, Bruce could almost feel the anger radiating from the assassin. Out the corner, he watched her shift slightly. She was pining for the agent Loki had, but not in a romantic way. She reminded Bruce more like a child looking for their mother after wandering too far away. He sent her a small smile, which she returned without emotion.

 

“Wheres the Tesseract?” Bruce diverted the confrontation, worried that if they continued, Natasha would kill the God.  She seemed to realise his attention shift as her eyes shifted over for a second. Loki’s eyes darted back to the camera, and a small, surprised smile spread across his face. He spread his arms in mock welcome.

 

“Well this is a surprise, Dr, if I should call you that. What are you doing here?” Bruce blinked, his blood running cold. Steve frowned, eyes shifting from Bruce to the monitor. Fury didn’t flinch, but his eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

 

“What’re you talking about?” Fury sneered slightly, fed up with the lack of answers.

 

“Oh, he knows what I mean. Dr Banner and I had a meeting years ago.” Loki grinned maliciously. “You remember that, don’t you, Uriel?” Thor’s head snapped up. Natasha frowned minutely.

 

“Uriel?” Steve frowned. “As in the Celestial?” He looked over at Bruce, a mixture of hesitance and confusion. Tony scoffed. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

 

“And my names Kathrine.” He chuckled humourlessly. Bruce closed his eyes for a split second and tried to calm his heart. He shook his head. He had met Loki before, along with Thor. He hadn’t thought he would recognise him, Thor hadn’t. Now though, Thor was staring with an eyebrow raised.

 

“Uriel or not, where is the Tesseract.” Natasha spat out, not flinching at the accusation flung at the man next to her. Bruce was partially thankful the attention was diverted from him. He swallowed, the bandages on his shoulders tightening further with each breath.

 

“It will be delivered to you personally.” Loki shrugged, before turning round and refusing to speak again. Tony looked at Steve, a look of pure irritation and anger before he shut the screen down. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Steve spoke up. Tony paced up and down, glaring at the floor with heated anger.

 

“What did he mean ‘personally’?” Steve looked round them all. Thor shrugged slightly.

 

“No point in listening, guys nuts.” Tony snorted, “he thought Bruce was a little birdman.” Bruce winced slightly, wondering for a brief second how Tony would react if he knew.

 

“I can understand what he means, you do resemble him slightly, Banner.” Thor weakly argued.

 

“What did he mean?” Steve growled slightly, frustrated at the slow pace. Natasha sat down and leaned back in her chair.

 

“Threats, Cap.” She simply shrugged with a small grimace. Bruce nodded a little, not completely convinced it was only a threat.

 

“Doesn’t help us with the Tesseract situation, or the Agents.” Tony grumbled slightly, hating the feeling of being at a disadvantage. He was Tony Stark. **The** Tony Stark. He was meant to know everything and solve any problem, and coming up short infuriated him incredibly.

 

“We’ll just have to keep trying to trace it, its all we can do.”  Bruce shrugged with a grimace, his voice low and uncertain. Steve looked up, and after a moment of staring, nodded.

 

“I’m going to speak to Fury about the safety of this ship. If Loki wants to make threats, we better make sure we’re prepared for anything he can throw at us.” Steve stood and without so much as a pause, stalked out the room in search of the director.

 

Bruce watched his go, feeling the unease of the Demigod close by. Looking over at Thor, he felt a twinge of sympathy tug his heart. He understood what it felt like to lose someone so suddenly and without much incentive.

 

“Romanoff, tell us more about the Agents he has. Might help us find them quickly if we know what he could have done.” Tony looked over at the emotionless face on the female agent. She looked over with a frown, but offered a small nod.

 

“I’m going to visit my brother, maybe I can help him see sense through this madness.” Thor stormed out, a look of pure determination on his features.

 

“Hopeless case, Point Break.” Tony tutted after him. He shrugged in a disapproving manner before turning his attention to Natasha, and began asking her various questions about each man taken by Loki.

 

Bruce watched Thor leave, his mind whirling. Loki knew what and who he was, so there was no secrets from him. Could he use that to his advance? Angels could be incredibly persuasive when they wanted to be. Could he find the Tesseract by interrogating Loki? If he could, he would be able to get off the helicarrier and carry on with his life back in India. He stood for minutes on end, unmoving.

 

He had to try, if not for himself, for the Agents, right? Their life meant more than his, they were at risk and it was in his interest to save them. God, he shuddered, he was so righteous sometimes.

 

“I’ve got something to sort.” He mumbled and made a quick exit, darting away before either two could say anything. He heard faint noises of confusion, mainly from Tony, but he didn’t stop or slow down.

 

He walked fast, his hair bouncing with the wind as he sped down the corridors towards the holding cell. He looked around him as he walked, acknowledging an Agent as he dodged past him. If Thor was still there, he couldn’t confront Loki, he decided. Loki would completely out him and that would ruin him. He would be shunned and chased with his tail between his legs, literally.

 

As he neared, he couldn’t hear anything from the large room, so he took that as a positive and slowly entered. Creeping forwards, he spied Loki standing at one end, looking off into the distance with a vacant expression. Bruce crept forwards, a hard look settling as he watched the God of mischief. Thor had already spoken to him, that much was obvious.

 

“I knew you would come to me, Uriel.” Bruce froze, watching as Loki turned his head towards him. A look of mild curiosity and amusement spread into a smile as he turned fully to face the stunned Bruce. Being caught off guard, Bruce swallowed and drew himself upright and narrowed his eyes, trying to look intimidating.

 

“You will be waiting a while for Uriel to appear.” Bruce raised an eyebrow as Loki chuckled and shook his head. He sauntered closer to the glass, swaying casually before speaking again.

 

“I see you are very keen to turn your back on your heritage.” Bruce blinked before taking a deep breath.

 

“I could say the same about you, Frost Giant.” The icy cool melted briefly from Loki’s features and Bruce could see the anger and disgust set deep in his expression. A split second later, Loki resumed his usual smirk and merely raised an eyebrow.

 

“I will not be condemned for mass murder however.” Bruce felt his face flush with rage and the deep guilt scratching at his mind, as Loki sneered at him, and for once he wasn’t so pleased for the thick glass between them.

 

“Where are the Agents?” Bruce hissed, his eyes flickering a deep golden colour before returning to their usual warm brown. Loki only laughed.

 

“Are you planning to threaten me, Dr?” The clear emphasise on ‘Dr’ didn’t go unnoticed by Bruce, but he ignored it and continued his stare as he slowly walked around the room.

 

“I’m not one for threatening, Loki. I prefer to keep things as peaceful as possible.”

 

“What a true Celestial you are, your Almighty must be very proud indeed.” Bruce growled but smiled.

 

“I’m sure your Father is just as proud of you.” That brought Loki up short. His twinkling blue eyes pierced through Bruce as his fist hurled at the glass, causing the cage to shudder slightly.

 

“He is not my Father. Odin is a worthless father, just like Thor is a worthless king.” Bruce smiled sweetly, barely flinching at the outburst.

 

“How do you know I was talking about Odin?” Loki blinked, speechless. “Are you just going to brush poor Laufey off like that? How hurtful that must be.”

 

“What do you know of Laufey?” Loki snarled, teeth gritted tightly. Bruce took a moment to think, looking around before turning back to Loki with a smile.

 

“More than you know I do. Now, the Agents.” Bruce prompted with a raised eyebrow.

 

“They’re safe.”

 

“I know that, but its their whereabouts I’m more interested in.” Bruce gestured for Loki to continue.

 

“Where is this deep concern for a human you have never met before from? Is this a result of love?” Bruce paused and looked over at Loki in confusion.

 

“What?” his previous cool and approach completely forgotten about as he stood staring at the amused God.

 

“I recognise the display of affection when I see it, Dr. Agent Romanoff is not one I would have imagined an Angel of your status to pair. Or is it Stark?” Loki shrugged and stalked around in a lazy circle as he continued.

 

“I care only about Barton’s wellbeing as with the others.” Bruce’s voice cracked slightly. He hadn’t expected Loki to lash back to viciously, and he was feeling a little winded.

 

“And their guaranteed wellbeing also guarantees the happiness of Romanoff, correct?”

 

“This has nothing to do with her, I only care if you have harmed these Agents, and so help me if you have.” Bruce snarled, eyes flickering. The insanity of Loki’s comments were at a new level. He had known the woman for all of two hours. Tony’s predictions were expected, given the reputation he held with women, but not from Loki also.

 

“Oh, are you really the one to be throwing threats around? I do not really see much display of power.” Loki laughed and turned his back to Bruce, clearly fed up with the conversation. “The agents will come to you, my dear Uriel. Patience is all you need.”

 

Bruce didn’t reply, only turned and stalked out the room. Loki’s parting words had left him in a confused state of uneasy. His words were comforting, but his tone told a completely different story. He didn’t dwell on it, he refused to let himself wallow over the God’s mischief. Instead, he quickly returned back to the lab, where Tony was still tinkering on the sceptre.

 

“Look at that, the wanderer returns. Where did you go in such a hurry?” Tony looked up from where he was bent over the desk, a look of pure curiosity on his face. Bruce swallowed slightly and sat gingerly on one of the stools.

 

“Just had something to sort. How did it go with Romanoff? Any closer?” Bruce noted the missing assassin, her interview over and finished with. Tony shook his head with a small sigh of frustration.

 

“No. Theres just no trace of them at all.” Tony sighed and launched into a long explanation of the different methods he had tried in order to locate the missing agents. Bruce listened, nodding and agreeing at the right times, but his mind was elsewhere. He was milling over Loki’s last statement, unsure of what he meant. It was a threat, hostility clear in his words. 

 

Before he could ponder longer on his conversation with Loki, Bruce was suddenly flying into Tony, a ear-shattering explosion sounding behind them as the glass and metal structures caved and bowed at the sudden pressure. Bruce landed heavily on Tony with a sharp exhale, pain rippling over his torso. Both men lay in silence for a few seconds, stunned and shocked, before they looked up in unison. The large glass window was gone, debris everywhere, the Sceptre nowhere to be seen. Alarms began to sound, agents running wild as the carrier suddenly plunged to one side, jolting everything in the room. Bruce screwed his eyes closed, focussing on relaxing and keeping his heart in check.

 

“Whats going on?” Tony shouted, scrambling up to avoid the rolling furniture, pulling the frozen Bruce with him. Bruce looked out the window with wide eyes and watched as a quinjet appeared around one of the propellers. He blinked, Loki’s words replaying again. He felt a wave of terror and nausea as he finally understood the Gods’ remarks.

 

“Loki. He said the Agents would be delivered to us. They’ve arrived.”


End file.
